Something about a Fedora
by EarendilElwing
Summary: It was safe to say that Steve McGarrett would never approve of Danny's sartorial style. Although… seeing the additional pieces Danny had added for his costume – well – he might have to amend his opinion just a little bit.


**Something About a Fedora**

Steve never really understood Danny's inflexible wardrobe choices. He'd lived in Hawaii for over five years now, and still he insisted on stiff button-downs and ties at work, no matter the temperature outside their climate-controlled office.

It wasn't just about the impracticality of it; Danny was just so much more formal, hot headed and temperamental in those clothes - always in full Jersey cop mode. It's not that Steve didn't like "Jersey Cop Danny". He just preferred the relaxed and comfortable "I-Live-In-Hawaii-and-I'm-Here-to-Stay" Danny instead.

No – it was safe to say that Steve McGarrett would never approve of Danny's sartorial style.

Although… seeing the additional pieces Danny had added for his costume – well – he might have to amend his opinion just a little bit.

Steve was hosting the Halloween dinner – just a get together for Five-0's friends and family, but extended relatives and acquaintances had ballooned the low-key event into a full-scale party. He didn't really mind. Everyone had brought a dish to pass, so there was no shortage of food or drinks, and it was great to see his ohana enjoying themselves without a case, conspiracy or international incident hanging over their heads.

Danny had texted a while ago to let him know he was running late; apparently little Charlie had thrown a tantrum over being going back to Rachel and Stan's rather than spending the night with his father and sister. Steve was sure Danny was reveling in his current (though probably brief) status as the favorite parent.

In any event, Steve, dressed simply in his old navy SEAL uniform, spent time playing the dutiful host: meandering through the rooms, greeting and hugging guests, and making sure everyone had what they needed – a drink, a snack, whatever.

After about thirty minutes of this, he decided he needed some fresh air. He excused himself from a conversation between Chin and Lou's wife, grabbed another beer from the cooler, and stepped out into the back yard.

He had just closed the door behind him and walked a few yards towards the beach, when a low voice greeted, "Hey there. Come here often, doll face?"

Steve would forever deny that he'd jumped and yelped like a little kid.

He spun around and glared at the figure leaning against the house in the shadows. "Danno? What the hell?! How long have you been hiding there?"

"Ease up, babe. Just needed to cool down before I join the bash. You dig?"

Before Steve could roll his eyes, Danny pushed himself up and stalked towards him. Steve's snarky retort died in his throat when Danny stepped into the light.

Danny was wearing a grey three-piece suit. That was nothing unusual; the two of them had attended several formal ceremonies over the years. But he was also wearing a long, beige trench coat over the suit and a black fedora. Additionally, the lower half of his face was rough with a two-day stubble, and the end of a blue candy cigar stuck out between his lips.

Those lips curled into a smirk at Steve's undisguised staring. "What's the matter, baby? You never see a P.I. before?" he asked, his tone soft and deep, with the graveled edge of the no-nonsense noir detective he was supposed to be.

Steve wasn't sure which part of the ensemble he liked more – the clothes themselves or the confident attitude they brought out. The rim of the fedora shadowed Danny's bright blue eyes, but it also seemed to bring out a dangerous, wild energy within them, a look that seemed to indicate affection and desire in equal measure.

Steve didn't know if that was just part of the persona Danny was trying to portray with the costume, but he didn't really care. He could chalk it up to a Halloween prank if needed.

Without a word, he closed the distance between them, grabbed Danny by the tie, and pulled him into his arms for a kiss.

To his immense disappointment, Danny held a hand up to stop him, though he didn't move away. "Jeepers, McGarrett! If you're gonna make a pass at me, at least let me ditch gum." He spit out the minute pieces rolling around his mouth and pocketed the remainder to the candy cigar. That done, he moved his hand to the back of Steve's neck. "As you were, Commander," he murmured.

Steve grinned and immediately took possession of Danny's mouth, savoring the sensations of his partner's soft lips, the scratch of stubble against his chin, and bubble-gum flavored tongue dueling his.

All too soon, Steve had to pull away for air, but neither he nor Danny removed their arms from around one another.

"So," Danny said after he'd caught his breath, "how long you been carrying a torch for me, sweetheart?"

Steve shrugged. "Long enough," he answered. What he didn't say was that he'd always held the utmost respect and love for Danny, that he couldn't imagine his life without Danny in it, or that their partnership had been a constant battle to suppress thoughts and feelings he hadn't been prepared to deal with. All of that was a conversation for another day; Steve had no interest in talking at the moment.

"Huh," Danny mused. He momentarily dropped the tone and 1940s lingo. "Any particular reason you decided to do something tonight?"

Steve shook his head. "Don't know. The costume might have something to do with it?"

Danny raised an eyebrow. "Really? It's just a suit; you bitch about me wearing them all the time."

"The hat's new."

"You mean my fedora?" Danny reached up and titled the rim to one side. "You got a thing for these, Steven?"

Steve shook his head. "Not normally, but it looks _really_ good on you."

Danny leaned back in with a predatory grin. "Hmm… I'll have to keep that in mind. But for now, how's about you lay another smooth on me, baby?"

Steve was all too happy to acquiesce. Unfortunately, the moment was interrupted by a series of shrill wolf-whistles and an explanation of "Well, it's about damn time!"

Steve and Danny broke apart and glared at the crowd that had assembled just inside the glass doors of the house. Everyone regarded them with congratulatory expressions on their faces; a few of the younger women swooned while others were digging for their wallets and furiously exchanging bills.

"Ah, horsefeathers!" Danny gripped. He removed his arms from around Steve and faced the onlookers. "Buzz off, you fat-heads!" he shouted.

Steve was too elated over this turn events to care that they had an audience, but apparently Danny was not inclined to make out with others watching.

Thinking quickly, he clutched the folds of Danny's trench coat and hauled him back in. "Not so fast, Danno. There's more than one use for this." He snatched the fedora from Danny's head and bent to kiss him again, but he used the hat to shield their faces from the spectators.

There was a collective "Aww!" of disappointment, but Steve paid no attention. The only thing that mattered was Danny, here in his arms where he was always meant to be, melting beneath the tenderness and passion of Steve's hands and lips.

Well, that and the fedora. Steve was fairly certain that it would be his favorite part of Danny's wardrobe from now on.


End file.
